T.G.I.F?

"There are somethings I can't report

        The memory of his last retort

But it was so much easier

        When I was cruel"

When I Was Cruel No.2

        -Elvis Costello

For some reason, I am into my second listening of the When I Was Cruel album today.  Actually, I think it is because I had a vision of my life as an art film short, and this seems the most appropriate of the CDs I have here at work. More appropriate would be somber violins, but since this would be an American film I think they should be fiddles, a somber, sweet bluegrass melody accompanying me through the silence of my day and on through to the credits. Seriously. I know I have complained of the sensory deprivation chamber on more than one occasion, but it's really more than just that which sucks.

People here act as if I am from another planet, or at the very least another country. There are a lot of times in work situations that I don't mind being left out, like when I was a PAG and people didn't ask me if I wanted anything because someone going out for you usually meant that you were expected to reciprocate in the future. There is nothing I hate more than doing lunch orders for 5 picky people. I've done it here a few times, god forbid someone's gets a taco that's hard or a burrito that's got onions.  This though is much different.

I notice that I am the only one without a Santa hat. I notice that no one (in power) said anything to me about the cancellation of the Christmas party. I notice a lot of things like that. I mean I notice the closed body language. I notice the blank stares when I say something, you know the whole maybe if we don't say something she'll just go back to her cave sort of thing. Eight hours a day of this, and did I mention the hum of the HVAC system slowly reprogramming my brain?

Did I mention that it is freezing in here?

I found some poems shoved in my desk drawer, so I figure I'll share them here. They were both written 10/31/05. The first is called Eulogy, the second is untitled.

Eulogy

If anyone knew how I felt about the world,

It was definitely you.

Well, at least it should have been.

God knows, I told you enough to fill volumes.

Had you actually listened to me,

Rather than always pretend, you wouldn't be here.

I told you months ago that I was tired of it all.

It should have been obvious that I was cleaning house.

The day I told Mr.Benchley where to go,

It should have put you on notice.

All I wanted

One night

A few hours

Delicate moments

It didn't matter where

I just wanted to see

All I wanted

A meal with someone

Who might wear something

Other than the same cruddy

Football jersey week after week

I wish this whole blog thing was working out differently. I wanted it to be entertaining like my friend Jon's blog was ( hansarde.blogspot.com ) but it just isn't working out like that...

More later probably, because I am sure my mail will bring something horrible... it always does.